


Lucky

by gwyllion



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwyllion/pseuds/gwyllion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for aleanorblack in the Secret Santa exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aleanorblack](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aleanorblack).



Ennis never considered himself lucky… until he decided to double-major in journalism and photography.

His course of study gave him the perfect excuse to photograph hot young men and answer his parents’ questions about his schoolwork without getting into too much hot water about his sexual orientation. He could avoid talking about the subjects who made his palms sweat and his heart pound. Instead, he could discus f-stops and darkrooms and the demise of Eastman Kodak until his parents grew bored and said goodbye, hanging up the phone until the next time they would speak.

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until the day LD Newsome walked into his photography class, looking for an intern.

It was the first day of the spring semester. Flakes of late January snow fell gently to the ground, adding to the winter’s accumulation that blanketed the campus.

Professor Aguirre didn’t have much faith in his students, least of all Ennis. When Ennis thought about it, he guessed that Aguirre saw Newsome’s arrival as an opportunity to cut Ennis loose during his final semester at college. It was do or die time for Ennis, and the less he had to see of Aguirre, the better.

“I have just the student for you,” Aguirre said with a harrumph.

He must have known that Newsome represented up and coming indie bands, not the symphony orchestra, or the latest operatic diva that Ennis and his fellow budding photographers sought to chronicle for their final project before graduation. Ennis hated loud noise and he had hoped for a quieter assignment.

Newsome was rough around the edges, but after he had seen some of Ennis’s stills on display in the students’ gallery and read some of his writing samples, he made an offer.

Ennis reluctantly accepted the job with a handshake and a deal to get his final semester of school paid in full. He figured his folks needed all the help they could get with tuition. That night, Ennis Googled Newsome’s clients to see what he was getting into.

Newsome seemed to represent the who’s who of hot musical talent. From grungy garage bands, to eclectic vocal stylists who were always clad in black, a signing with LD Newsome almost guaranteed success... and it almost always guaranteed that the talent would be young, male, and hot.

Now, Ennis was anxious to start, and happy to get out of Aguirre’s class for the semester. He zipped his jacket against the wind and packed his camera gear into a duffle bag, ready to follow Newsome’s latest discovery into every dive east of Chicago.

As for the loud music, he took the parting advice of Professor Aguirre and bought himself a set of earplugs.

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until he met Jack Twist, the object d’art that he was charged with photographing. With his trusty iPad, he’d follow Jack’s journey to certain fame, recording it all for posterity.

Ruffled black hair and a glint of mischief in his eyes, Twist wasn’t your typical Newsome client. No, he was much more than the others that the Google search revealed—he was drop dead gorgeous.

“Jack Twist,” Jack said, offering his handshake.

Ennis mumbled a hello as the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

“The cover of Rolling Stone,” Newsome said, slapping his hand on his desk. “That’s what you’re going for. Maybe even a coffee-table book.”

Ennis reluctantly agreed, his legs shaking so badly he could swear the floor was vibrating under his feet. He could do this... once he got control of himself. Although Ennis was confident in his abilities, the more he thought about his internship, the more it seemed like Newsome was being a cheapskate with his money. Why else would he hire a college kid for what amounted to minimum wage, when he needed someone more like Warhol or Leibovitz?

But traveling with the gorgeous Jack Twist made any amount of compensation worth it. Hell, Ennis would work for free if Jack Twist was part of the deal.

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until he went to his first Jack Twist gig. He had earned the privilege of riding on the tour bus, as long as he promised to upload his proofs to Newsome before he turned in for the night. The article with his byline could wait until morning.

In the tricked-out bus, Ennis was assigned a sleeping berth that was barely big enough for his cameras and lenses, but he supposed he would make do. He plugged his electronics into their respective rechargers and watched the wintry countryside drift by his tinted window. When night fell, he imagined the bus would be like a party on wheels with more feel-good libations than he could shake a stick at.

Ennis sunk down into a plush pillow and hoped for a good night’s sleep. To his surprise, the bus was strangely quiet for containing the large amount of musical talent within its confines that it did. He poked his head out into the aisle to see if he had an opportunity to visit the restroom and wash up before hitting the hay.

That was when he ran into Jack Twist for the first time since they had exchanged a quick handshake over LD Newsome’s desk back in Chicago. Although a week had passed, Ennis couldn’t forget the warm blue eyes and easy smile.

Back in Chicago, Ennis had fumbled the handshake before he saved himself from further embarrassment by making an excuse about light filters, and ducking out of sight.

But now, outside the restroom of the tour bus, no such escape existed.

“How’s it going, Ennis?” Jack asked. “Good to see you again.”

Ennis nodded and clumsily tested the doorknob.

“Someone’s in there already,” Jack said. “I think it’s Ronny, the stage manager.”

Ennis nodded in agreement and sure enough, a moment later Ronny exited the restroom and brushed past him and Jack in a cloud of marijuana smoke, the water still sloshing in the toilet bowl.

Jack rolled his eyes and said, “After you,” taking a step backwards so Ennis could take care of his business.

When Ennis exited again, Jack nodded his way and said, “Have a good night.”

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until he was able to take pictures of Jack on stage. The muffled sound of the dueling guitars reached Ennis’s eardrums despite the triple soundproof earplugs he had gotten from Student Health Services. The rent-a-doc on duty lectured him on the hazards of early hearing loss in college students who listened to their iPods blaring at sound level 11. He worked his way through the crowd, narrowly avoiding a pair of guys who had gotten into a fistfight for one reason or another.

“Watch out!” Ennis grunted as menacingly as he could, flashing his press pass at anyone who got in his way.

He had a job to do and no one was going to prevent him from doing it.

He pushed his way through the mass of bodies that moved to the thick beat of the bass. This was no dance floor like any he had ever been on before. A chaotic tangle of limbs managed to catch an errant stage-diver and lowered him none-so-gently to the floor.

Ennis shoved his way to the stage where the object of the crowd’s affection, Jack himself, writhed against the microphone stand. If this amount of effort was what it would take for Ennis to satisfy Aguirre so he passed his course, one look at Jack Twist made Ennis ready to do the work.

He planted his elbows on the sticky stage floor and began to snap away.

On stage, Jack swayed to the music. Black leather pants covered his lower half, and he surely invalidated the warranty for the microphone stand with his moves. Its manufacturer never intended it to be used as a sex toy.

Ennis’s face grew hot when Jack’s baby blue eyes met his.

“Stay focused,” Ennis said, hoping no one heard him try to rein in the surge of lust that ran down his spine. He fumbled for a different lens, his forehead sweaty and his cheeks flushed.

When the gig was over, Ennis escaped into the chilly night, the heat of the club pulsing off his skin like waves of heated air rising off the blacktop on a summer day. He was glad for the cold weather that served to cool off more than just his skin.

Later that night, Ennis willed himself some privacy beneath a heavy blanket in his bus berth, as the travelers rode the highway to the next city. 

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until one night when the haze of cigarette smoke shone like mountain mist in the spotlight as it focused on the man that was rocking the house with his sultry vocals that accompanied his gyrating hips. Ennis aimed his camera’s flash at the god bedecked in black leather, a tight cream shirt pulled taut against his chest, catching the outline of his abs below his erect nipples. A pair of sunglasses had been slid upwards, as if they were a headband to keep his unruly locks out of his eyes.

Ennis loved the way the cameras and the light played off Jack’s raven hair. He was a dream to photograph with his gorgeous bone structure and his toned body. Ennis would be getting an A in this course for sure.

“Hey, Ennis,” Jack said, hours later, rapping his knuckles on the frame of Ennis’s berth in the bus.

“Yeah?” Ennis sat up, nearly spilling his whiskey and Coke.

“I liked it,” Jack said, tossing the newspaper onto his bunk, the paper folded open to reveal Ennis’s latest article and photo spread.

“Thanks,” Ennis said with a grin.

“Keep up the good work,” Jack said.

Ennis could have sworn Jack winked at him before he walked down the center aisle to his suite.

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until he realized that Lureen Newsome wasn’t interested in Jack Twist. Her father was known by many as a star maker. He had a reputation of making or breaking an act and there was something in Jack Twist that LD Newsome liked. Ennis just hoped it wasn’t a trophy for his daughter’s shelf.

He started to become concerned when Newsome brought his daughter to an after-party on the tour bus. Lureen was known throughout the indie world as a kitten who just waited to pounce on new talent. In only a month or two, she’d leave a band’s frontman scattered all over the floor like yesterday’s cat litter.

Ennis tried not to think too much about Lureen. He tried to focus on LD’s confidence in him as a photographer and a journalist. LD must have thought highly of Ennis, otherwise, he never would have hired a hick kid from out of the sticks to travel with Jack’s entourage.

Ennis was relieved during the second week of the tour, when Lureen took up with the bass player, leaving Jack to the fangirls.

***

Ennis never considered himself lucky… until one night when the bus became stranded in a spring snowstorm outside of Syracuse. The sex with college girls had been one of the benefits of touring the country from the Lakeshore of Chicago, to the universities of New England. There were as many as twenty of the girls crowded onto the bus, each one with her own particular brand of temptation.

The promise of cocaine in a dorm room or a handful of magic mushrooms packaged carefully in tin foil was enough to lure most of the band and crew to find friendly sleeping companions for the night. Ennis wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. The only temptation that had captured his interest lay behind the doors of the main suite which took up the rear quarter of the bus.

Ennis settled into his bunk, imagining Jack must have found some female companionship to occupy him during the long snowy night. With his good looks and talent, Jack wouldn’t be lonely for long, if ever.

Ennis dozed in and out of sleep. As the snow pelted the parking lot, only the unwelcome beep-beep-beep of the snowplows roused Ennis from his sleep occasionally, the flicker of yellow lights illuminating his berth.

When the loud sustained scrape of a metal plow pushed across the blacktop, Ennis gave up on sleeping. He wondered if anyone else was left on the bus for the night. Perhaps they had all found accommodations in the arms of a sexy co-ed. He and left his bunk and wandered into the aisle.

He was surprised to bump into Jack on his way to the restroom.

“Ennis,” Jack said, his voice sultry as ever from the unexpected rest for his vocal chords. “Trouble sleeping?”

Ennis ignored the warmth uncoiling in his stomach. “The snowplows are a little loud. I can’t get to sleep when they keep driving by.”

“Have you tried earplugs?” Jack asked.

Ennis raised his eyebrows as he pinched a plug out of each ear.

Jack smiled. “I’ve got a bottle of whiskey. A nightcap might help you to sleep.”

“Yeah? You got company down there?” Ennis asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jack wrapped his fingers around Ennis’s wrist. “No, no one is down there, but me.”

Ennis looked at Jack’s fingers. He was skeptical. Jack, who could have any man or woman he wanted, was spending the night alone? Ennis figured he had nothing to lose.

He let Jack lead him down the aisle between the berths. At the back of the tour bus, Jack’s suite door was open, as he had apparently left it.

No sooner did Ennis get into the room with its plush leather seats and king-sized bed, than he found himself pressed up against the door with Jack’s breath hot in his ear.

“Do you know how long I’ve been watching you, Ennis?” Jack whispered huskily.

Honestly, Ennis had no idea that Jack could tell him apart from any of the other members of the entourage that traveled from city to city with Jack’s band. The news came as a pleasant surprise.

“Uh...” Ennis said, his fingers laced through Jack’s hair. “I didn’t know.”

“The way you stare at me when I’m on stage,” Jack breathed. “The way you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Jack did have a point.

Ennis pushed at Jack, until their positions reversed with Jack’s back thudding against the door and Ennis’s hands bracketing Jack’s face.

“You’ve got that right,” Ennis said, understanding that Jack knew exactly what he was doing.

Ennis pulled Jack’s face toward him and their lips met in a crush of teeth and tongues. Ennis sucked Jack’s lower lip into his mouth. To his delight, he drew a soft moan from Jack, just as he felt Jack’s hands slide under his T-Shirt, rucking the fabric up to his armpits.

While Jack’s hands moved, his thumbs grazing over Ennis’s nipples, Ennis could not be persuaded to move any faster. He had wanted Jack for so long and he had been willing to wait all semester to have this opportunity. He wasn’t going to ruin it now by moving too fast. He let his lips indulge themselves across Jack’s jawline, pressing soft sucking kisses to his collarbone.

Jack groaned when Ennis found a spot he liked. Such was the pleasure that Jack’s hands ceased to roam across Ennis’s chest.

Ennis smiled against Jack’s skin, before working his own hands beneath the hem of Jack’s shirt.

In the dim light of Jack’s suite, with the flickering lights of the snowplows and the muffled beeps of sanding equipment, they slowly stripped off each other’s clothes. Jack turned and reached for the whiskey bottle that he had left on the mini-bar.

“I think I promised you a nightcap,” Jack said, handing the bottle to Ennis.

Ennis tilted his head back to take a swig of the smooth malt, although his need for liquid courage had left him long before he became a college student.

Jack slid one hand into Ennis’s hair, and Ennis felt his other hand move down his chest, his fingers trailing across the dusting of hair below his navel.

Ennis waited to see where Jack’s fingers went.

“Okay,” Ennis groaned, setting the bottle back onto the bar when he had a better idea of how this was going to play out.

Ennis lay back on Jack’s bed, shoving some of the pillows out of the way. He pulled Jack down so their chests met, the thudding heartbeats pounding in time with the rolling of wheels across the icy parking lot. Ennis’s cock had gone solid from the moment he saw Jack in the aisle of the bus. Now, when he realized that he was Jack’s preferred entertainment for the night, his cock leaked a pool of slippery anticipation against his own stomach where it was lodged still by Jack’s weight.

Jack leaned down to press his lips to Ennis’s again, his hot whiskey-breath fanning over Ennis’s face.

Ennis’s eyes blinked closed from the soft gust of heat and he lifted his mouth toward Jack’s. Time seemed to come to a standstill, as if nothing else was happening in the world beyond Jack’s suite. There was only Ennis, Jack, and the moans of pleasure that sounded so much like the vocals to Ennis’s new favorite song.

Jack drew his head back and watched Ennis’s face with those piercing blue eyes.

He must have liked what he saw because the next thing Ennis felt was Jack’s warmth leaving him as he leaned back to reach into a drawer for some lube.

Without taking his eyes off Ennis, Jack lubed up his fingers and settled between Ennis’s legs.

Ennis let out a gasp when he felt Jack’s finger press forward. The gasp turned into ta low whine as Jack pumped his finger in and out of him preparing him for what promised to be one of the best fuckings of Ennis’s life.

Ennis fisted the plush comforter that covered Jack’s bed. His hips stuttered when Jack stretched him open further. It was a slow achy burn, nothing that Ennis hadn’t experienced before, but with jack it was so much hotter than any of the other guys he had allowed to fuck him.

When Jack’s fingers dove inside to brush against the nugget of nerves that made Ennis see stars, Ennis arched his back further off the bed and heard his own voice pleading with Jack.

“That’s enough,” Ennis said, the air gone from his lungs. “Please, now…”

Jack swiped his tongue over the tip of Ennis’s cock and smacked his lips like the performer he truly was. His showmanship, even in this, made Ennis huff out a laugh.

Ennis tried to control himself, but he so wanted to drag Jack down on top of him so he could feel his warmth again. _Patience,_ he told himself, not wanting to distract Jack from his ministrations. Finally, Jack tore open the condom wrapper with his perfect teeth. He smiled down at Ennis as he rolled it onto his cock.

Jack brushed his fingertips up and down Ennis’s thighs, slightly nudging his legs apart further.

Ennis wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist. The head of Jack’s cock was there, pushing and breeching him. Ennis willed himself to relax, but his body had other thoughts. His hands loosened from the sheets and he pulled Jack to him, flexing his legs as he did so.

Jack seemed surprised by Ennis’s action, but he kept his eyes locked onto Ennis’s.

Ennis squeezed his legs to give Jack the message to move. Like an obstinate horse that Ennis wanted to train, Jack refused to budge unless prodded. In Jack’s case, Ennis’s soothing words while he stroked his flanks and purrs of sexiness as he tightened his legs’ grip, were enough to drive Jack into action.

Ennis dug his fingers into Jack’s biceps, just as Jack punched the breath out of Ennis with his undulating hips and soothing moans. In an effort to keep Jack’s pace, Ennis reached down to the sweat-slicked place where their bodies were joined and he wrapped his hand around his own cock, pumping it steadily to Jack’s rhythm.

The beeping of the snowplow’s reverse warning alarm joined in with the beat of the song that played out in Jack’s suite. It was unlike any song Ennis had ever heard, but it was their song on this snowy night when two desperate travelers found comfort and companionship in each other.

Ennis soon followed Jack over the edge, painting his own chest with come as Jack groaned out his pleasure with a final thrust. Ennis loosened his grip on Jack when his breathing returned to normal. He stretched his legs while Jack sorted out the condom and ran a warm cloth over the sticky mess they had made between them. Basking in the glow of their mutual satisfaction, they enjoyed a sweet post-coital embrace while the snow continued to fall outside.

Ennis finally allowed the lull of the snowplow engines to sing him to sleep. With the rest of the semester ahead of him, and a job to do for Newsome, he smiled when he thought about how the rest of the stint might go. He tightened his hold on Jack, who slept soundly in his arms. He supposed he could get used to the loud music if need be.

Ennis never considered himself lucky… but on this particular night, he did.


End file.
